


Secrets and Lies

by luckoftheduck



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Episode: s03e04 The Lost Harp of Mervana!, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Revelations, Webby's parents, dat promo though, maybe au, secrets and lies, speculation for future episodes, we stan a ghost butler, what if, what is Beakley hiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckoftheduck/pseuds/luckoftheduck
Summary: Sure, secrets are to spies like words are to a writer, but what is Beakley still hiding from Webby?  A quick "what if" one-shot...maybe it's AU, maybe it isn't.  Inspired by the fandom discussions about exactly what "fibbing" is still happening, and if Beakley is even Webby's grandmother in the first place.Continued, now, after seeing that new Disney XD promo!
Relationships: Bentina Beakley & Duckworth, Bentina Beakley & Scrooge McDuck, Bentina Beakley & Webby Vanderquack, Scrooge McDuck & Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

_Protocol 63: Ignoring a problem does not make it go away._

For as much as she was one to follow the rules, _not_ following them had gotten Bentina Beakley into this situation. That should have had her more willing to stick to not only protocol – even though she was retired, she’d built her life around it – but, perhaps, common sense. And yet, here she was, trying to pretend as if everything were fine as another sharp pain shot through her side. She set the dish she was drying down, if a little harder than usual, and gripped the kitchen counter until it passed.

“Are you all right?” Duckworth rarely showed her open concern; it didn’t fit the dynamic they had going on.

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, when she got her breath back. “I’m just not feeling very well.”

Duckworth frowned, though his calm demeanor didn’t fade otherwise. “Perhaps you should lie down.”

“Yes, perhaps I should.” And before the next contraction hit, ideally.

It had all been a moment of weakness. She’d been mourning her daughter and son-in-law; Scrooge McDuck had been mourning Della and the family he’d lost the night she disappeared. They’d been weak and looking for any sort of comfort, and one thing led to another. They swore never to speak of it in the morning – and if Duckworth knew, he was at least being discreet. Beakley had been perfectly ready to move on from there, until…well, this. She’d figured at first it was a consequence of getting older, the change all women went through eventually, until she realized that, no, she was definitely carrying an egg and it was fertilized. By the time she realized, it was too late to end the pregnancy through conventional means, even if she had decided she wanted to. The thing was…she didn’t, not really.

To be fair, she’d tried to talk to Scrooge in a roundabout way. Dropping a bomb on him like that definitely wasn’t going to go well. She knew he and Goldie O’Gilt had a child, once, but their daughter hadn’t been protected from the effects of aging like them. She would have died of old age well before now if measles hadn’t killed her in her twenties, before vaccines were available. He’d been adamant he didn’t want to go through that again, wouldn’t face having another child he might very well lose. And Donald and Della had been his children in all but parentage, so in his grief, he had adopted the motto of family being nothing but trouble. All of Beakley’s subtle questions were immediately rebuffed; it was clear she was going to have to do this on her own. He might accept his child, but he wouldn’t embrace her – Beakley was sure it was a girl – and she wouldn’t let her child feel the pain of rejection if she could help it. Concealing her condition was fairly easy; being big-boned worked in her favor, and she was barely showing. 

The labor was, thankfully, a smooth one and the egg arrived in the early hours of the morning. Beakley was immediately in love. She’d thought she’d lost everything when she’d lost her daughter. Now…maybe, she had someone else to live for. 

“I’m sorry, dearest,” Beakley whispered to the blanket-wrapped treasure in her bag as she approached the marina. There was only one ally she trusted until she could get her plan in motion, but that meant having to leave her child for a time. “But this is for the best, really.”

Donald Duck answered the door of the houseboat, stepping around his one-year-old nephews with practiced ease. “Mrs. B? What brings you by?” He’d agreed to see her as long as she didn’t suggest reconciling with Scrooge, and she’d been keeping close tabs on him and the boys since he left. 

“I need a favor,” she confessed, taking the egg from her bag. She caressed it for a moment, wrapping the pink blanket back into place. “I hate to put this on you, with all you’ve got going on, but…I need someone who can keep her safe until she hatches.” She’d had a scan to confirm the duckling was a little girl and she was healthy. “I’ll come to collect her then.”

Donald’s eyes widened. “Is she yours?”

Beakley knew he wasn’t implying that she had snatched a random egg from someone, but she couldn’t help but snort at the thought. The first lie, the first part of her plan. “She’s my granddaughter. My daughter’s little secret…” It fit perfectly, though. A discovery made after her recent loss, and she was certainly of the right age… “I’m getting the mansion ready for her, but I need some time and some place she’ll be safe until then. I don’t trust anyone else.” She and Donald hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, but she knew he’d protect his nephews with his life.

Donald nodded, accepting the egg as she was passed to him. “She’ll be safe here.”

“Thank you.” For this, she owed him more than she could say.

* * *

The little girl had hatched a few weeks later, and she was beautiful. Scrooge had taken the news that Beakley had a granddaughter in stride, agreeing for her to come live in the mansion as long as she stayed out of his way. Beakley had called her Webbigail, Webby for short, and she couldn’t have loved her little girl more. Even if she was to be “Granny” instead of “Mommy.” She’d given the girl her son-in-law’s last name to complete the cover story.

F.O.W.L. was still out and about, though, and they were still responsible for her older daughter’s death. The vague threats she got every so often when she began to look into the circumstances of that were enough to convince her it wasn’t worth it. She wouldn’t lose Webby the same way.

They found their rhythm, and if Webby became a little (all right, a lot) obsessed with Scrooge McDuck as she grew, it was harmless, right? He still kept to himself, and her research kept Webby occupied. Beakley felt like Mother Gothel sometimes, keeping her confined to the mansion, but she couldn’t risk her little girl’s safety. Maybe when she was older…

Then Donald and the boys had come back, and things got rowdier but even better. Webby finally had friends her own age, and she had companions when she began to explore. Plus, with Scrooge back in action and Donald keeping a watchful eye on his boys, Beakley felt comfortable giving Webby a longer leash at last, knowing there were more eyes on her now. She’d even gotten back in on a few of the adventures herself. Webby had been content to know that her “parents” had died in the line of duty, killed by F.O.W.L., and had devoted herself to avenging them someday, on top of her other hobbies.

Watching Webby absolutely melt as Scrooge finally invited Webby to call him “uncle” had nearly brought Beakley to tears. If only he knew…but, of course, he couldn’t. When he’d snapped that she wasn’t family that day on the Sunchaser, Beakley had been livid. He didn’t know and she couldn’t blame him for that, but she _did_ blame him for hurting Webby with such words. The girl was so sensitive, especially when it came to her hero.

The bonds had fortunately been repaired and life went back to the relative normal they’d found. Beakley wasn’t happy about the secrets she had to keep, but it was what it was. The adventure in Mervana reminded her of exactly how much trust Webby put in her, but at the same time, how necessary it was for her to take certain secrets to the grave. She could be honest about everything else, right?

At least they were leaving that damned harp behind. It was only through practiced ease that she didn’t wince as she heard the melodic voice trying to chide her as she promised no more secrets. _Fibbing, fibbing, fibbing…_ And perhaps it was just paranoia, but had the voice started as soon as she called herself Webby’s grandmother…?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was supposed to be a one-shot. And then I sort of started thinking about Duckworth and what he does or doesn't know in this 'verse. 
> 
> AND THEN THAT MCFLIPPIN' PROMO.
> 
> This is based on pure speculation about what that few seconds means, and I'm not tagging it as spoilers because it was a publicly aired promo. If you don't want to hear about that few seconds, just skip to the story now or hold onto this until after the October episodes air.
> 
> SPOILERISH SPACE JUST IN CASE
> 
> Anyway, it's Webby screaming as Beakley tumbles off the roof. They appear to be in a fight, and my guess is it's the Impossibin episode. If you look closely, Beakley's already unconscious when she falls, and we've seen how she gets distracted in tense situations when she places Webby's safety above her own. So...enjoy. The first part of this chapter is mostly just Duckworth's POV on the events of the last one, then we jump to the aftermath of what happens when you fall of a frickin' roof in front of your kid.

* * *

Any butler worth their salt was an excellent keeper of secrets, and Duckworth knew plenty. If it wasn’t his business, he simply noted the new information and carried on. Such had been the case the morning Duckworth had come to bring Scrooge McDuck his morning tea and found him still asleep, with Bentina Beakley tangled in the covers beside him. It wasn’t something he’d seen coming, but further observation seemed to indicate it had been nothing more than a one-time tryst. Who was he to judge? They were both grieving and if they’d found comfort of any kind, then perhaps it had served its purpose. Frankly, he didn’t even think about the matter again, until a few months later, when Beakley seemed ill.

Their friendship was an unconventional one, and open displays of camaraderie were, for the most part, something they had an unspoken agreement to avoid. She seemed to be in pain, however, and Duckworth had seen the way she shrugged most injuries off. After getting her to admit she wasn’t feeling well, he advised her to lie down and finished cleaning the kitchen in silence. 

It wasn’t until the next morning, when she wasn’t up at her usual time and he paused to check in on her, that he made the connection between the two incidents. Beakley was still asleep, which by itself would have been evidence that she was sick, but then he saw the newborn egg nestled against her chest. At her age, it hadn’t been the first explanation for her condition he’d have expected, but it was hardly impossible, either. And given the timeline, combined with the fact that she’d been notably withdrawn since losing her daughter, Duckworth couldn’t help but wonder if the events were linked. In and of itself, the identity of the child’s father wouldn’t have been any of Duckworth’s business. But the affairs of Scrooge McDuck and his family _were_ his concern, not to mention any new inhabitants of the mansion. However, the situation called for a delicate approach – which, fortunately, he excelled at.

As Duckworth considered it, he probably should have seen the signs sooner. It wasn’t uncommon for them to share a drink at the end of the day sometimes, and she’d been declining his offers recently, as well as wearing her sweaters looser. The only reason Duckworth could think of that she would intentionally conceal her pregnancy was if his suspicions were correct and Scrooge was the father. If that were the case, he expected her to attempt to continue the charade. Thus, Duckworth was hardly surprised to find Beakley headed for the laundry room later that morning, a basket full of linen on her hip. She was moving slower than usual, but she appeared determined to keep up appearances. He stepped up beside her, taking the basket. “You should be resting. You look terrible – more so than usual.” No need to let her know he knew just yet, not until she wasn’t quite so on edge.

She scowled at him, rolling her eyes. “Oh, you’re just too kind.”

Duckworth gestured toward the couch as they passed the living room. “Sit. I’ll handle this.”

“Fine,” she sighed, though he didn’t miss the wince she tried to hide. It was all the proof Duckworth needed that she was pushing herself beyond what her body was ready for yet. If she’d been feeling better, she’d have fought him more.

When Duckworth returned to the room, he came bearing tea for both of them, a peace offering of sorts. It might have been a particularly British way of approaching the matter, but it was a language they both spoke. He gave it a few minutes, waiting for her to relax before telling her, “This household has _me_ ; it certainly won’t fall apart if you take some time to care for yourself.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

Duckworth smiled, fixing her with a look. Treating the situation gently didn’t have to mean beating around the bush. “Yes, fine for a woman who gave birth less than twelve hours ago. You won’t do anyone any good if you push yourself too hard and end up hemorrhaging.”

Beakley startled, nearly dropping her teacup. “How did you know?”

“I went to check on you this morning and noticed the little one,” Duckworth explained. “Normally, I’d offer my congratulations, but I’m not sure how that would be received, under the circumstances.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “How so?”

Duckworth shrugged. “Given the attempts you’ve made to conceal your new arrival, I can’t say I have an indicator of your feelings on the matter.”

“Oh.” She nodded, as if conceding his point. A small but genuine smile crept across her face, something he hadn’t seen much of from her in a long time. “I adore her already. It’s just…complicated.”

Duckworth couldn’t help but smile. “It’s a girl, then?”

“I think so.”

And, now, the real question. “And Mr. McDuck…?”

A blush rose to Beakley’s cheeks. “You know, then.”

“I know most things about this household.” Duckworth folded his hands in his lap. “Frankly, until now, it was nothing that needed to involve me. But if the child is his…”

“She is.” Beakley’s eyes filled with tears and he passed her a tissue. He’d tucked a few in his pocket in anticipation of needing them. “I did try to tell him. But with Della gone now, on top of what happened to Aurelie…”

It was rare to hear anyone speak Scrooge’s long-deceased daughter’s name aloud; the subject was simply too painful for him to discuss and anyone who knew of her existence generally respected that. “I assume he doubled down on his new ‘family is nothing but trouble’ motto?”

Beakley nodded, sighing. “I suppose I should have come right out and told him. He’s a decent man; he’d make sure she was taken care of. But I can provide for her needs. I don’t want her to spend her life wondering why her father refuses to embrace her. I won’t set any child of mine up for that kind of rejection.”

The way she phrased it essentially answered Duckworth’s next question; it didn’t sound like she was preparing to give the child up for adoption. “You’ll be raising her, then?”

Her smile was tender, motherly…the way she’d used to look when discussing the daughter she’d lost. “I can’t let her go.”

“I’ll find a room for the nursery, then.” His opinion on her choice was irrelevant, but Duckworth was privately pleased. It would be nice to hear a child’s laughter in the mansion again – but, even if he and Beakley wouldn’t have acknowledged how much they cared about each other aloud, he’d worried for her as much as he had Scrooge lately. If this baby gave her hope and brought joy back to her life, he was all for it. “Though, if I might ask, how do you intend to explain her sudden presence?”

“I need time to establish my cover,” she said, sighing sadly. “I’ll have her stay with someone until she hatches, then I can bring her home. I didn’t expect to deliver for another week, but she seems to be doing well and that might work in my favor. It’ll be cutting it close, but if no one examines the timeline too closely, it’s possible that she could have been Amy’s.”

Duckworth nodded. “You’ll be her grandmother, then.” The fact that she was even outlining her plan to him spoke volumes as to how much she trusted him to keep her secret.

“As far as anyone will ever have to know.”

* * *

Young Webbigail’s presence in the mansion had given the place new life. Scrooge was still mostly reclusive and avoided interacting with the girl, but that didn’t stop her from idolizing him. If only they both knew… 

Being brought back from the afterlife was definitely a surprise, but Duckworth was delighted by the new opportunities. He had only been dead a couple of years, but eternity consisted largely of boredom. Now he could keep an eye on his home and family, but also enjoy life on the other side when he wished. And it had been wonderful to discover that Scrooge had finally reconciled with his family. He’d even begun to bond with Webby, which was encouraging.

When F.O.W.L. resumed its status as a direct threat to the family, Duckworth was more than happy to lend his services as a demonic bodyguard, but those that were still in the physical realm had to learn to defend themselves, too. An attack had interrupted a training session, however, and while Duckworth did his best to keep the henchmen at bay, there was only one of him. Black Heron’s obsession with Beakley hadn’t waned over the years, nor had Beakley’s fighting skills, but now she had Webby to watch out for as the fight moved to the roof. Ensuring Webby’s safety was her one weak spot, and it proved to be the only opening Black Heron needed to gain the upper hand. Webby’s terrified wail drew Duckworth’s immediate attention, and it was as good as summoning him directly.

“Duckworth.” Webby looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears as she raced to her mother’s side. Duckworth had gone with the ruse, understanding the necessity, but as much as he referred to her as such, he’d never begun to think of Beakley as the girl’s grandmother. His memories of that morning over a decade ago would be with him forever – literally, at this point. 

“Stay with her, do what you can.” The fall from the roof probably would have killed most people, but Beakley was not most people. Manifesting in a form where he could interact with solid objects and people had drained him, so Webby was the most suited to offer immediate first aid. “I’ll get help.” This family had been torn apart too many times; he’d do everything in his power to be sure it didn’t happen again tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

Beakley had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a few hours, but she’d been unable to hold onto it long enough to address her primary concern. _Webby…_ She had to know if Webby was safe. Finally, when she was able to open her eyes purposefully, she struggled to find her voice. Unfortunately, so soon after waking, and with all the drugs that were in her system, she didn’t have nearly the kind of filter she usually did. Top secret information was safe; she’d trained for that. But, on a more personal level, things slipped out, and instead of calling Webby’s name, she heard herself murmur, “My…daughter, is she all right?”

Scrooge leaned into her field of vision as she stirred. His eyes held a mix of relief and worry. “You’re awake. Thank goodness.” At her question, he frowned. “Bentina…Amy, she…”

Beakley groaned. “No… _Webby.._.”

That question didn’t have to linger for too long, fortunately, because Webby was already climbing into the bed with her, curling up to her gingerly. “I’m here, Granny. I’m fine. You sure had us scared…but you’re gonna be okay.”

Moving her arm to hold Webby close took serious effort, but it was something they both needed. Scrooge smiled, standing after giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll give you two a moment. I should let the others know you’re awake.”

Webby buried her face in Beakley’s chest for a few moments before she settled in. “You’re gonna be okay,” she repeated, as if reassuring herself. She giggled after a moment. “You called me your daughter. That’s sweet.”

Looking into her little girl’s trusting eyes, Beakley’s heart ached as much as the rest of her body. She could still play it off as an effect of the drugs and her injuries. Even the day before the fight, she’d have told herself this secret would die with her – but now that it nearly _had_ , she couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Webby’s heart further after the fact. It was time to come clean, and while this was the least desirable way in which to do so, she couldn’t maintain the façade a moment longer. “Darling…I need to tell you something.”

Webby shifted so that they could look directly into each other’s eyes, still staying as close as possible. “What’s that?”

“Amy…never had a child.” Webby’s eyes widened in shock, and Beakley could only pray that the rest of the truth would help ease the blow rather than strengthen it. “I’m your mother.”

Tears sprang to Webby’s eyes, and Beakley cursed herself for putting them there. “What…how…?”

“I’m so sorry.” She was crying now, too, and her tears only fell harder as Webby wiped them away. “I know…we promised…” Her head was swimming and her eyes were getting heavy. This was not a good time for a full conversation, which Webby deserved, but she’d push through and give her as many answers as she could.

“No more secrets.” Webby’s voice shook as she finished the sentence, but she cupped Beakley’s cheek with her hand. “Granny…uh, um…Mom, or…” After struggling past names, she finally managed to ask, “Why?”

 _I was trying to keep you from being hurt._ As she had been with all the decisions she’d made that she came to question sometimes. But would that be enough? “I…just wanted to…protect you.” She was fading, and she didn’t know how long she’d sleep. She’d been injured plenty of times in the line of duty, but this was worse than most of them, and she wasn’t as young as she used to be.

“Right.” Webby, usually an open book, seemed guarded with that response, but the word didn’t come out as an accusation, either. “Then if my dad wasn’t…” She frowned, easily concluding that, no, Amy’s husband hadn’t been her father if Amy wasn’t her mother. “Who’s my dad?”

Oh, she’d known that question was coming, and it drove a knife even further through her heart not to be able to answer it. This was already a conversation that Webby deserved to have her in a better state for, and the very real possibility that she would manage to answer the question and then pass out couldn’t be ignored. She couldn’t do that to Webby, not with as much as it was going to change things. Not to mention, Scrooge still didn’t know. “I…I can’t, not yet…I’m sorry…”

Webby held Beakley’s hand tightly to her chest, still crying quietly, but fear crept into her expression. “Was he a bad person?”

“Oh, no, love, no.” That much reassurance, she could provide. “He’s a good man…” Her eyes slid closed as she finally lost the battle to stay awake. The last thing she was fully aware of until she woke again was the heartbreaking sound of Webby’s hiccupping sobs.

* * *

After updating the rest of the family, Scrooge had stayed in the waiting room. He wanted Beakley and Webby to have some privacy; the poor girl had seen what happened, and despite her optimism, she’d been understandably terrified. Webby returned to the waiting room some time later, her eyes red from crying. “She’s asleep again,” she murmured to Scrooge, by way of explanation, then retreated to a far corner of the waiting room, curling up on herself. He rose to go to her, but the boys beat him to it. Dewey pulled her into a tight hug while Huey and Louie leaned in, and that was all Webby needed to dissolve into tears again.

As he kept an eye on them, though, Scrooge came to realize there was more to it. Webby’s tears finally calmed enough for her to explain what, in addition to her grandmother’s injuries were bothering her, and it shocked Scrooge as much as it did everyone else.

Webby’s grandmother was her _mother_. Scrooge wracked his memories, trying to recall any hints he might have missed. He knew he had been absorbed with his own problems when Webby had arrived, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen Beakley regularly. Why would she feel she needed to hide a pregnancy from him? Her affairs were her own; he’d never have told her she couldn’t have another child. He hadn’t even realized she’d been involved with anyone. She’d been reeling from her daughter’s murder, and…

 _No. Oh, no._ There had been that one night. He’d nearly forgotten it, but as he did the math, the timeline matched. Was that why she’d never said anything, why she’d created an elaborate cover? Scrooge didn’t dare say anything to Webby until he was sure, but now he couldn’t help but wonder…those times Webby made those little faces that reminded him of Matilda? The natural ease with which their bond had developed once he’d let her become a part of his life?

Still, he’d thought he and Beakley could trust each other with about anything. If it was true, he wanted to be angry, furious with her for keeping such a secret for him, but…why _hadn’t_ she felt free to tell him? And if he wasn’t the father, why the ruse? He’d been angry at the world, shutting out family, but…

…shutting out family.

After Della was lost to the stars and Donald left with the boys, Scrooge had hardened his heart to the idea of family, not for the first time in his life. He always ended up hurt, it seemed, and he’d swore it wouldn’t happen again. His guilt had, of course, played a large factor in it, but everything had been _too much_ , and it only reminded him of the losses he’d suffered. Beakley had always been at him to make amends, even before she lost Amy. But she’d taken a different tactic one day, asking him if he’d theoretically consider letting a new family into his life if the opportunity presented itself. 

_Eleven years earlier…_

Scrooge snorted. “What are you on about, Twenty-Two?” If it wasn’t mission-related, he only used her old code name these days when he was trying to tease her or distance himself from her; in this case, it was definitely the latter. Even if the question had come out of nowhere, it made him uncomfortable.

She shrugged, leaning against his desk. “If you continue to refuse to reach out to the family you already have, is that it? What if something else comes along?”

“Like what?” He was all for the concept of found family, as a concept, but he wanted no part of family in general these days. Beakley and Duckworth technically _were_ family to him, but he couldn’t imagine inviting anyone but them into his life. And he only had them left because they were too stubborn to leave. He’d managed on his own before; he could do it now.

“Well, you know that Ms. O’Gilt and I do not exactly get along, but—”

“Leave her out of this,” he snapped. “That woman’s nothing but trouble and I won’t have you talking her up. She’d rob me blind and disappear into the night.” The second she’d brought up Goldie’s name, he sensed he knew where that was going. His beloved Aurelie, lost to a world that hadn’t yet conquered many common illnesses. Her death had destroyed any future attempts he and Goldie made to settle down again; losing their “golden girl” had broken them both. Even if Goldie could have more children – he honestly wasn’t sure if her defiance of aging affected her entire body or just her appearance – he knew they wouldn’t be able to open themselves to that pain again. Not to mention the times Goldie had left him hanging since… “I’ve said it before, Beakley, and I’ll tell you again. Family’s nothing but trouble to me, and the sooner you accept that, the better!”

_Present_

It hadn’t been his finest moment. And if she’d told him in that moment she was poking around the issue because she was carrying his child, however unintentionally, he wanted to say he’d have reconsidered his words and supported her. But that was him now. The angry, bitter man he’d been then…well, he’d have provided for them both; it was the honorable thing to do. But would he have tried to build any relationship with Webby then? He hated to admit it, even to himself, but…probably not. He’d lived with the girl under his roof for years and mostly tried to ignore her; he’d pushed back against the triplets’ initial attempts to get to know him. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure his suspicions were correct; he couldn’t think of many reasons why she would go to the trouble of creating a cover if she’d found herself expecting under any other circumstances. 

Sadness replaced Scrooge’s initial sense of shock and indignity as he realized he must have left Beakley feeling like she had no choice. He knew her too well; she wouldn’t have wanted him to be a father solely out of obligation. And perhaps she’d have told him sooner if he’d made any attempt at all to get to know Webby. He already regretted taking so long to do that; she been so _thrilled_ when he invited her to call him uncle. And his heart broke a little more when he remembered how long she’d taken to do so again after that disaster on the Sunchaser. Lashing out in his pain, in a desperate attempt to shield his heart, he’d shouted that she wasn’t family – and had quickly met the full force of Beakley’s rage as she rose to Webby’s defense. He’d honestly been surprised, though he hadn’t allowed himself to care in the moment, when she’d announced she was taking her vacation days and left with Webby. As cutting as his words had been, had he been shouting them at his own daughter? No wonder Beakley had been furious enough to walk away to cool down.

He moved back into Beakley’s room; he wouldn’t push her when she woke if she didn’t seem up to it. But Webby had finally fallen asleep in Della’s arms by then, and he didn’t want Beakley to wake up alone. He settled down in the chair beside her bed, slipping his hand into hers, and let the chirping of the heart rate monitor assure him that she’d come through this and he’d have time to make things up to her and Webby both.

* * *

When she woke again, Scrooge was there. Beakley found she had the strength to actually lift her head and look around now, and it appeared they were alone. He seemed to have been dozing, but as she moved, he snapped to full wakefulness. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you…I think,” she murmured. She squinted at the IV pole beside her bed, trying to see what they were giving her; she had a feeling that, as much as she hurt, it would be a lot worse without it. 

Scrooge grabbed her glasses from the bedside table, settling them on her face. She smiled gratefully at him, but from his expression, it was clear something was on his mind. And she suspected she knew what; Webby had probably told the others what she learned. When he took her hand in both of his, the sudden tenderness all but confirmed it before he finally spoke. “Bentina…why didn’t you tell me?”

He knew. The man was no fool; he’d probably done the math and at least realized the possibility. “I tried…” Beakley’s tone wasn’t defensive, just tired and sad. He had every right to be angry with her, as did Webby, and perhaps they would be once she was stronger. She could deal with that then, but for now, it was time to face the truth, no matter what the consequences.

If anything, he looked sad. “I know.”

So he did recall that conversation. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s me who should be sorry.” Scrooge shook his head. “I should never have left you feeling like you had no choice. And for you to carry on, as you did, and not hold it against me…”

Well, that would have been ridiculous. Any moments of resentfulness she’d experienced were only fleeting, and she’d quickly turned them back on herself. “Can’t hold it against you if you didn’t know…”

“Perhaps.” Scrooge frowned. “But I can’t blame you for the position I put you in, either.” He laughed, in that dark way he had when the situation was a mess and he didn’t know what else to do. “Suppose we should see if Donald’s therapist knows someone who does family sessions when this is all said and done…” It was said in jest, but, honestly, it wasn’t the worst idea. He glanced at the door briefly, then turned back to her. “Does Webby know?”

Beakley was still weak, and she hated it, but she shook her head. “Not yet.”

He gnawed briefly on the lower half of his beak, then cautiously asked, “Do you mind if I tell her?” Quickly, he added, “If you’d rather do it yourself, I understand.”

“It’s all right.” It might be awhile before she’d be able to devote as much energy to that conversation as Webby deserved. Besides, she idolized Scrooge, and if he brought it up, Webby wouldn’t have to worry about how he would react. “Might be better…coming from you.” He didn’t seem in any hurry to leave, though, and she didn’t want him to linger on her account if Webby was waiting. “You can go…I’m not going anywhere…”

Scrooge chuckled. “It’s all right; I’ve got time. She’s finally asleep; poor lass wouldn’t even consider it until you woke up. She was up all night.”

Beakley nodded. Best to let Webby sleep, then. She snorted at the fond look that crept onto Scrooge’s face. “What?”

“We would be the absolute _worst_ couple, but I do love ya.” Scrooge squeezed her hand affectionately.

That, she certainly understood; it was the first time he’d acknowledged so directly, but she felt their platonic love had always been unspoken. In everything they’d faced, they’d always had each other’s backs, even if they’d sniped at each other the whole time. And though that one night had been an emotional mistake, Beakley couldn’t bring herself to regret it when it had brought Webby into her life. “I love you too, you old fool.”

* * *

Normally, Beakley would have been the one shepherding them home once they were sure things would be fine and insisting everyone spend the night in their own beds – or, at the very least, at home. Especially since they’d been at the hospital all night. This time, it was on him. He didn’t want to leave Beakley alone, though; he’d been about to take Della up on her offer to stay the night and head home in the morning until Duckworth had shown up. 

“Are you sure the staff won’t be a little concerned about a ghost watching their patient?” Scrooge asked. The average Duckburg citizen had seen some strange things, admittedly, but they still weren’t as used to the unexpected as Scrooge and his family were.

Duckworth shrugged. “Hospitals are notoriously haunted.” He said it in such a casual tone that Scrooge figured it was best not to question his certainty.

Once they were home, and they’d managed to get the children fed, Scrooge pulled Webby aside. He took her into his office, figuring they were unlikely to be interrupted there. “Lass, we didn’t have much of a chance to discuss it, but…how are you doing, with what you’ve learned about your mum?” He wished there were a less awkward way to ask the question.

Webby shrugged. “I…it’s still a lot, I guess. I mean, it makes sense. She’s always been like my mom to me…I mean, like I thought a mom should be. If there was a threat, or maybe, I don’t know…I guess…we still have a lot to talk about, when she’s better.”

Scrooge nodded. He could sense the unspoken question Webby had above all. “But you’re wondering why she felt the need to lie at all.”

Webby nodded, tears springing to her eyes, though they didn’t fall. “Yeah.”

Scrooge sighed. His instinct was to turn away, so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye when he admitted his role in that, but he wouldn’t do that to her, not now. “I’m afraid I’m to blame for that.”

Webby frowned. “You? But…how?”

“Did she say anything about your father?” Scrooge asked.

Webby shook her head. “She…couldn’t talk about it then. She just said he was a good man.”

Scrooge smiled as that piece of information warmed his heart. “Well…I do appreciate her thinking so. Even if he did make a lot of mistakes. Especially in pushing you away.”

Webby didn’t get it right away, though he really hadn’t expected her to. He’d been trying to ease her into it, not wanting to overwhelm the girl. “So…he knows about me? And you know him?”

Scrooge nodded. “Webby…years ago, your mum and I, we were both hurting after losing our families. She handled things better, in the end, but she usually does. But…one night, we were talking, and it was late, and…” How did he put this without sounding crass? “Well, you know how babies are made.”

Webby chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve know _that_ since I was five, but what—” He could see in her face the exact moment it clicked. “You mean…?” Her eyes were wide, and she began to tremble, but she didn’t appear to be distressed.

“Yes.” Scrooge figured he should finish explaining while it was still sinking in. “She tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t hear of it. She never wanted you to feel rejected, Webbigail. Never. And I was a foolish old man wrapped in my own world.” 

A high-pitched squeal escaped from Webby’s throat, not unlike the noise she’d made when she’d first seen Castle McDuck. Now she was bouncing in place. “You mean _I’m a McDuck_?!”

Scrooge couldn’t help but laugh, opening his arms to her. “Aye, that you are, sweet girl.” Webby flung herself at him, and he held her tightly. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were small. Please don’t blame her for this. She was just trying to protect you.” He knew Webby had every right to feel betrayed, but if she directed it at anyone, it should have been him. He’d forced Beakley into the position of feeling like she had to lie in the first place.

Webby was practically vibrating. “Can I tell the guys?”

“Of course you can. You can tell anyone you like.” There weren’t going to be any more secrets, at least not about family. They’d all learned that lesson the hard way too many times.

“Oh, man, that means they’re really my cousins!” Webby threw herself at him for another hug, before flying out of the room in her enthusiasm, calling, “Guys! _GUYS!_ Guess what?!”

If it hit her later and she crashed, he’d be there to support her, but for now, Scrooge would let her ride the high. It shouldn’t have surprised him, given her focus on him and his family, but it still melted his heart to see her so excited by the news. It seemed some good had come out of this disaster after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon: The epilogue, where Beakley and Webby have that talk that's still due.


	4. Chapter 4

After three days, she was finally home. Beakley’s doctor had wanted to keep her in the hospital for a couple of more days, but she had been insistent that she had a large, loving family at home who would help her manage and keep an eye on her, whether she wanted them to hover or not. Thankfully, he gave in to her argument and let her go – especially he already seemed amazed by how quickly she was recovering, and there were some aspects of that Beakley didn’t want him to have the time to look into.

Webby had pretty much been glued to her side since, and she was content to sit with the girl in her lap, stroking Webby’s hair as she hummed an old lullaby. They still needed to talk, but she knew Webby would bring it up when she was ready.

After about an hour, Webby looked up at her. “Gra—” She cut herself off, frowning.

“Don’t worry,” Beakley assured her, chuckling softly. “You can call me whatever feels right. What’s on your mind, darling?”

“Would you believe me if I said swordhorses?” Webby joked, shifting a little anxiously.

Beakley smiled. “Given that it’s you, yes, but I suspect there’s more to it than that.”

Webby cuddled closer to her. “I guess I get why you lied, with the whole situation and all. I don’t think I did at first, but I understand more of it now.”

“But?” Beakley prompted, sensing that there was more.

“Well, I mean…” Webby frowned. “I guess, it’s obvious you didn’t mean to have me.” Judging from her expression, there was more she wanted to ask about, but she fell silent.

Oh. So that was it. Beakley supposed she should have seen that coming, knowing Webby as she did. “Oh, sweetheart.” She caressed Webby’s cheek with her hand. “Yes, you were certainly unexpected, but _never_ unwanted.” She lifted Webby’s chin gently to look into her eyes. “I was in a very dark place at that time, and then I had you, with all the light and hope you brought me. I won’t ever regret that. I love you so, so much.”

Webby’s eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling, and she hugged Beakley firmly but with a gentle touch around her healing ribs. “I love you too.” She rested her head against Beakley’s chest before asking, “No more secrets for real this time?”

“Yes,” Beakley promised. Certainly, she’d learned that lesson. “No more secrets.”

Webby giggled. “Does that mean you’re finally gonna tell me what happened on that mission in Belgrade?”

Beakley groaned. It had been one of the most disastrous moments of her career, and ever since Webby had heard her mention it in passing once, she’d wanted _all_ the details. “No. That’s no secret; it’s a matter of dignity.”

* * *

Given that she’d been sleeping on and off most of the time since the accident, Beakley was surprised to find herself awake in the middle of the night. She was exhausted, but her mind was racing. A gentle glow nearby drew her attention, and she rolled her eyes to see Duckworth sitting (as much as a ghost could sit) in the chair by her desk. She knew he’d been around while she’d been in the hospital, but she hadn’t been able to stay awake long enough to talk to him then. At least that didn’t seem to be a problem now. “Lurking without a permit again?”

He offered her a dry smile. “So now they know, hmm?”

Beakley didn’t have to guess at what he meant. Duckworth had kept her secret, and she appreciated that, but she’d always suspected he wished the truth had come out. “Now they know.”

“And the world hasn’t ended,” he observed. 

“No, and we’re all still alive.”

Duckworth snorted. “Despite your best effort, apparently. Next time, might I suggest you use the stairs?” 

It was a dark joke, even for him, but she couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d always appreciated dark humor. “To be fair, I was distracted.”

“Yes, by keeping your child safe,” Duckworth replied, and his tone was serious. “I doubt anyone – except your enemies, obviously – could fault you for that.” 

Their friendship had always been unconventional, and laced with heavy doses of sarcasm, but she had certainly missed him. Even if she’d never admit it out loud. “Thank you, though. For all your help.” Alone, she could be sincere with him.

Duckworth favored her with a smile. “It was my pleasure.”

* * *


End file.
